Closure
by shadowthief-wolf
Summary: In trying to move forward from the aftermath of the events at the opera house Christine finds herself searching for closure.
1. Chapter 1

**Hope you enjoy! Reviews are greatly appreciated!**

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She had come for closure.

At least that was what Christine repeatedly told herself as she walked under the shadow of the opera house. She intended to face the destruction, reconcile the present reality of the burned out building with the grandeur of its past, and then bury those memories in the underground cellars for good. She kept a steady stride as she headed through one of the side entrances and down a smoke ruined hall fearing that if she stopped, she would turn on her heel and flee - and she couldn't do that until she left the past behind.

Despite the weeks that had passed since the _incident_ , she cringed every time Raul used the term to describe everything that had happened to them-to _her_ -as if it were some singular negative moment that they could wave away with a word during polite conversation, she could not so easily wave away her memories. Even as she outwardly tried to be the woman that society expected, eagerly preparing for her wedding and embracing the comforts of higher society, too often she was caught staring at nothing until a gentle touch on her shoulder would draw her back to the present. Each time she faced the concerned look Raoul gave as he uttered a soft "Christine" guilt settled in her stomach knowing that it had not been her future life with her soon to be husband that she had been envisioning just moments earlier.

The distraction didn't help her with garnering any familial ties either as she would just as often be pulled to the present by the sound of a delicate cough to face the looks of disapproval from the people who were meant to fill her new life. Regardless of her efforts, she continued to prove less than vigorously engaged in her efforts to integrate into high society which was met with a contentious sniff from Raoul's mother, the elderly Vicomtesse de Chagney, while his other family remained distant.

Raoul's affections never wavered though, making her feel all the more guilty for not being able to look toward the future with the same excitement that was clearly present in him as he continued doting on her. She assumed that the feeling of apathy would eventually fade and that it was part of switching into a an entirely new and foreign lifestyle that had her caught in the past. But when Raoul made their engagement public and announced a wedding date, picking a date over a year away in an attempt to reclaim whatever propriety they could in distancing themselves from the opera scandal - another word she had grown to dislike as it was the word of choice for the ladies at the balls and social gatherings to mutter behind silken gloves - she felt like a weight had settled in her stomach rather than the elated butterflies that she imaged most people would feel at their own engagement party.

The party had ended with her feeling exhausted and she returned to the comforts of Madame Giry's guest room and collapsed eagerly onto the bed. That night she dreamt of floating across the crystalline surface of one of the scandinavian lakes she had visited in her early childhood, back when it had just been her papa and his music, until a weight began pulling her down toward the dark depths and the fabric of her dress began tangling around her legs. She struggled to keep her head above the water as she thrashed around in an effort to swim toward the shore but remained suspended, unable to move forward and unwilling to sink down. She had woken in the middle of the night with a gasp, and knew that she needed to do something to break her from this mental paralysis.

Christine had become so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't realized she was standing in front of a wall with a candle in hand. When had she descended into the cellars? Her heart was pounding and a queasy feeling settled in her stomach. Her trembling fingers glided over the rock until they came pressed forward slightly and the mechanism clicked into place causing the door to shift out of place. 'I should just turn back now,' she muttered to herself but took a deep breath. No, she had to do this. She had to move forward. She pressed lightly on the door and it swung inward with ease. She took another steadying breath and stepped into the darkness.

She had expected the home to be in ruin but the sight still shocked her. Even though she could see no further than the pool of light provided by her candle, she could already make out the shredded paper, splintered wood and shattered glass carpeting the ground. She let out a strangled sob as the reality of the sight and what would lay beyond the glow of her candle settled in. All the beautiful things that had been in that house…. _gone_. But wasn't that what she wanted? Didn't she want the illusion of this surreal and haunting place shattered by the reality that it had all been real and tangible, that it could be and was now destroyed?

 _Clink_. Her jaw instantly snapped shut as the sound of something hitting the ground echoed from the darkness. Her eyes desperately scanning for any discernible shape as she took a fearful step back.

"Christine?" _That voice_. She picked out two golden points in the darkness as a shape detached itself from the shadows. She felt her heart seize. She could barely handle the little destruction she had seen within the house and she had expected to see it in shambles. But this? She was utterly unprepared to see _him_.

"You can't be real." His voice, barely a hoarse whisper, pulled her from her panic attack. He took a step into the light with his hand outstretched. Glass crunched under his foot and Christine flinched at the sound.

Erik recoiled his hand as if the very air had burned him. His shoulders hunch forward and his hands opened and closed at his sides several times before finally remaining as fists. "What is the angel doing back in hell? Have you come to jeer at the monster you left behind? Or to remind yourself of how lucky you are to have escaped the terrible fate of an eternity of this?" He seethed, throwing the hand he had reached toward her in a sweeping arc to the darkness.

Christine could feel her mind racing. She hadn't imagined Erik still in the opera house when she had left Madame Giry's house. He wasn't suppose to be there. After the raid, he was suppose to be gone, like everything else. "Erik." Her voice was weak, but as his name passed her lips she realized that she didn't know what to say.

"Perhaps you are nothing more than another of Erik's hallucinations. No matter, some light will remind Erik that he is still alone." He turned on his heel and disappeared back into the shadows. A candle flared to life and Christine's eyes trailed from candle to candle as more were lit, trembling as the full extend of the destruction came into view. It seemed like no piece of furniture had been spared in the mob's haste to unearth the masked man but Christine flinched as she took note of Erik's instruments among the debris. His organ was caved in and she could identify remnants of other instruments mangled beyond possible repair. The mess had clearly been untouched since the mob had left, suggesting that the place had been uninhabited since…. and yet here he still was.

"Erik, I-"

"What?" He was standing by the far wall by the last candle he had lit with his back to her, pouring himself a drink. He didn't turn around as he spoke.

 _What_ , indeed, she thought bitterly. She didn't know what she wanted to say. Everything had become overwhelming and she found herself wondering why she had ever thought that coming here would help anything. Though even as she thought that, she could feel a slight weight lift from her heart as she stared fixedly at his back. She placed the candle at her feet and took a few steps, intent on closing the distance.

The glass Erik had been drinking from slammed against the table causing Christine to jump. He whirled around and glared at her. "Why haven't you left yet? What do you want?" He kept his hands on the table behind him, steadying himself.

"I-I'm sorry." He glared from behind the mask. "I didn't know you'd be here." Her voice sounded so small and weak.

"And where did you think I would be Christine? Did you hope that I'd be rotting away in some prison? Isn't here prison enough or did you wish for me to experience more humiliation at the hands of the public? Because, my dear, I have already had my fair share of being jeered at from within a cage." His own voice was hoarse and cracked as he spoke.

"A-a cage?" She shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself for some form of comfort. "I-I thought you would have left." She whispered, desperate to clear her mind. "After….after everything. I thought you would have gone somewhere or…"

"Or what? Did you expect to find poor unhappy Erik dead, my dear?" He watched her for a moment as if waiting for an answer before turning his eyes away. His voice descended into a barely audible whisper, "Do not think I haven't tried. Apparently I have survived too long to let death come easily. Or perhaps," his voicing rising in volume again as he looked back up at her, "Erik truly is an animated corpse who will continue breathing until his lungs decay within his chest and the flesh falls from his bones!"

He laughed, a terrible sound that made her want to cover her ears. "Enough! Please." She felt her heart clench. "I don't want to see you like that. I never wanted any of that." Tears began to form at the corners of her eyes and she hugged herself more tightly in an attempt to sooth her shaking.

He turned from her again and reached for the bottle. His voice softening again as he spoke. "You should, everyone else that has ever crossed paths with me has."

"Erik…"

"Why are you here Christine?"

"I-I was looking…" Suddenly her reasoning seemed somewhat silly. Had she just come hoping that the sight of the burned out opera house and his wrecked home would be enough to make her only look at the past in fear so she could turn her back and run head first into the future and the arms of her fiance with certainty? No, she had come to find out if the cellar home was truly empty. Deep down she had come to look for signs of _him_ and couldn't deny the relief that she felt in finding him alive. But she barely understood the sensation herself and couldn't give him half formed thoughts. Any false hope would utterly shatter him. _He is a monster, Christine. Forget him and move on with your life._ Why was it Raoul's voice that she heard? She looked down, catching her broken reflection in a few scattered shards of glass.

"I was looking for some kind of closure."

"Instead you found me." His shoulders hunched in on himself. "Tell me Christine, how does it feel to see the monster that terrorized you for so many years reduced to this?"

His words struck her. "You're not a monster."

"Oh but I am. Isn't that what you always told your boy? Besides, what else but a monster would incite a mob to chase after it? What else but a monster would do what I have done?" He sighed heavily. She heard shuffling and glanced up to see him moving. He staggered to a chair that had more or less been spared by the mob and collapsed into it, facing his back to her again.

Christine blinked, not believing this was the same man who had once ruled the opera house from the shadows. It was jarring to see him move without the natural grace she had remembered. His normal, immaculate attire was reduced to just his pristine porcelain mask, his normal evening attire substituted for a simple, dirt stained pair of slacks and a tattered shirt that hung loosely off his shoulders emphasising his gaunt physique. Even his ethereal voice now carried a hoarseness and his words slurred together. It hit her all at once that these changes were because of her, that she had broken this already tormented man.

Before she could respond he spoke again. "Leave Christine. Though I still draw breath I will not interfere with your life again. You can go and forget Erik."

Christine pressed her eyes closed. She could - _should_ \- just turn around and leave. Erik had given her what she should have wanted, a confirmation that he was still alive and that the events in the past were finished and would remain that way so long as she let her own memories fade. She could hear Raoul's voice prompting her to go. Yet a weight that had started to lift from her chest settled in again at the idea of leaving Erik as he was, wretched and apathetic. She had taken away the last hope he had held of some kind of acceptance into the world and if she left then there would be nothing left.

Voices in her mind raged that he had done terrible things but she identified the words as Raoul's and the news articles written about the opera ghost. Her own tiny subconscious whispered in the background reminding her that he had done terrible things, yes, things she could never forget but perhaps, perhaps she could understand. The world could be cruel, she was not naive to that fact having witnessed a touch of its cruelty after her father's death, and she knew that Erik had only faced that harsh reality throughout his life. And he had done wonderful things too.

She looked around the ruined room, remembering when it hadn't looked much different than the parlors in Raoul's home. His demands to have a living wife to take walks with ran in her ears. She could only imagine what the world had done to him, and yet, he had tried desperately to carve out some normalcy in his life. She suddenly understood. He had wanted to be like any other man, to be normal, to not be alone anymore.

She walked slowly toward the chair and stopped beside it as he kept his head turned away. Up close she could smell alcohol radiating from him and truly see how dishevelled he had allowed himself to become. "I'm sorry."

He turned to her, "What?"

"I-I know I've hurt you and-and I'm sorry. I never wanted to but I was so-so frightened and lost. I didn't understand. I…." she trailed off, unsure what to say next.

"You say that and yet you ran to that boy the first chance you had." His voice lacked the confidence or anger it held in the past when he would speak of Raoul.

"What did you expect Erik? You terrified me! I was so confused." She pressed her eyes closed, allowing all the feelings she had tried so desperately to control wash over her. "You were so kind to me and your music, oh your music was like nothing I had ever heard...but you deceived me Erik! And-and then when I took off your mask-"

He snorted and pulled away from her. "Yes, I'm sure that cemented your fear."

"No, I was - it was your anger that scared me. I didn't even really see your face, not that first time. You moved too quickly. I just knew…" she bit her lip trying to think of the right words. "I knew it didn't look normal." Erik turned his gaze from her, a flicker of shame in his downcast eyes. "I didn't understand then and I didn't know what to do. Raoul, he made everything easy."

She sunk to her knees feeling suddenly exhausted. She had gone with Raoul because he was the easy, sensible option. The only option. Whereas Erik….Erik was everything that she had been taught to stay away from. She had been afraid of Erik's burning passion, afraid of his anger and motives. She had never had time to consider what choosing either man would actually entail. It had been all or nothing between the two of them and she had been caught in the gray area, between Raoul's gentle kindness and Erik's burning passion.

Then the decision had been made for her, requiring nothing more of her than to simply follow along. She felt sick as she came to the realization that she was still the same juvenile child who had first walked into the opera all those years ago looking for someone to guide her through her life. "You must hate me." Erik turned sharply to face her and she held her breath as his gold eyes bore into her for what felt like hours.

Finally, his voice broke the silence. "No, even if I tried I could not hate you. It is you who should hate me. But you must understand, a monster rarely sees any option other than to forcibly take what it wants."

"Erik, I-"

He stood and gestured for her to sit, effectively cutting her off. "Please, it distresses me to see you on the floor like that." She got up and took the offered seat, suddenly grateful for the interruption.

Erik moved to another section of the room and returned with a bottle of brown liquid and a glass. She stared at the bottle curiously. "Would you care for some?"

"What is it?"

"Brandy. It has a strong flavor but it is somewhat sweet." He poured her a glass before pouring himself one and settling on a partially broken settee across from her. She took a sip, finding the burning liquid comforting as a warmth spread through her chest as her racing thoughts began to slow. True to his word, a lingering sweetness rested on her tongue after and she continued sipping. A silence filled the space as Christine finished off the first glass and Erik wordlessly poured her another while finishing off his own.

"Christine, would you care to hear me play?" His voice pulled her from her own thoughts which had started to become hazy.

She smiled and began to nod before frowning. "Wasn't everything destroyed?" She looked toward the organ and Erik winced.

"Not everything. I found an old violin that had been mostly spared. It will not sound quite as good as the one you are use to hearing but it is the best I have. Would you still like to hear something?"

"I would like that very much."

He left the room and she found herself refilling her glass before he returned with the instrument. He positioned the instrument and then hesitated with the bow above the strings. "I am, ah, I'm afraid I have had a few drinks and may not play as well as normal." He looked to the floor, his eyes reflecting embarrassment.

Christine started to laugh, at first making the soft polite chuckling sound expected of ladies before the sensation overwhelmed her and she began to laugh outright, feeling warm and lightheaded. She could hardly believe that the once feared opera ghost suddenly seemed like nothing more than a shy child. "I am sure it will sound fine, Erik." She managed once she settled down. She couldn't recall the last time she had laughed like that as she took another small sip from her own refreshed glass.

"What would you like me to play?"

"Something of yours. I-I have missed the sound of your music." She thought she heard Erik murmur something but was suddenly taken away as the bow glided over the strings. The legato notes drifted over her, creating an alluring and melancholic song. Her thoughts began to swim as the music enveloped her, returning her to the crystalline lake from her dreams though now she had no fear of being dragged underwater as she imagined floating across the surface.

She hadn't realized tears had come to her eyes until Erik's voice pulled her to the present. "I did not mean to upset you, my dear." Once again she was reminded of a child.

"No, that was beautiful Erik. Thank you." Erik nodded stiffly and bent to place the instrument back in the case before he brought it back to the room it had been stored.

Christine suddenly felt her heart clench as she watched him leave the room, sensing that this was the last time she would ever hear such music ever again. The thought took the air from her lungs as a wave of regret washed over her. She needed him to continue playing, at least for a little longer.

She stood before nearly collapsing back into the chair as the room tilted. She managed to get her bearing and took small, unsteady steps toward the room Erik had disappeared through. She stepped through the door and stumbled directly into his chest. He caught her by the shoulders before quickly releasing her and taking a step back.

She blinked, startled by the sudden movement. She squinted up at him, finding the way the candle light reflected off his mask to be distracting, like too many golden eyes looking at her, and moved her hand slowly toward the white porcelain to get rid of the offending glare.

He grabbed her wrist to stop her. "Why?" Hurt flashed through his eyes.

The contact pulled her from the fog she had been in but the desire to have the mask removed did not dissipate. "I've seen your face Erik. Why do you still feel like you need to wear your mask around me?"

He turned his eyes away from her and dropped her wrist. "I always wear it."

"Even when you are alone?"

He gave a short, strangled chuckle. "I am almost always alone, Christine. But yes, unless necessary I keep my mask on. If you had stayed you would have never had to look upon Erik's face. He would have been very careful."

"Oh."

She hesitated, a tingling feeling running through her body and then started lifting her hand again, reaching out and touching the mask. Erik's eyes flew shut and he tensed but she made no move to stop her as she lifted the porcelain from his face slowly. Her hand dropped to her side, holding the mask as she studied his face.

It was truly an unappealing sight with areas of his face covered in skin that appeared papery and thin with a yellowish hue of parchment while other areas looked like the skin was hard and swollen. He didn't have much in the way of a nose and his eyes were sunken into his skull, giving the illusion of a death's head. She noticed that some areas looked red and irritated, likely from the mask constantly rubbing the skin, and there was small patches of hair along his jawline. However, as she studied his face, watching the shadows shift across the contours of his skin in the flickering candlelight, she could not coax the sense of horror and disgust that others felt. Instead she saw a vulnerable man whose fear of rejection was clearly etched in every muscle of his body.

She reached out and traced a finger along part of his cheek that looked more swollen than the rest of his face. Erik took in a sharp breath and she could see the line around his eyes as he squeezed them shut. She let her hand fall to her side. "I didn't know you could grow hair on your face."

Her words broke the tension and he sighed and opened his eyes slowly, his body suddenly seeming to cave in on itself. He stared at her, his eyes frantically scanning her face searching for some indication of rejection before finally holding her gaze. Without his mask she could see the full extent of his pain and adoration.

"Erik tried so hard not be a monster but no one let him be anything else. It is why he came here all those years ago, to hide away from the world that did not want him. But then you, you let me be something other than...but in the end a monster cannot hide its true self."

"Erik, you mustn't say that. You are a man, a man who has had to suffer far too much rejection from the world." As she whispered the words she felt the guilt flood through her. She had rejected him too. She had exposed his face to hundreds after he had professed his love. Left him to the mob and the burning opera house above. But she hadn't had a choice then, she just followed what Raoul told her. And she was here now... but for what purpose? Hadn't she originally come to leave the past behind?

"I would have given you anything you wanted, done anything you asked of me..." he hesitated for a moment, "I still would. I love you."

Christine stared into his eyes and saw raw desperation and passion. She felt the mask being tugged from her fingers and realized that Erik was trying to take it back. She released it and Erik turned from her, breaking eye contact to fasten it back upon his face. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. He didn't turn back.

"When I saw him and the way he looked at you, I-I became so-so..." He took a step away from her and began pacing, careful not to face her as he moved. "I saw you slipping away. You were one of the few bright lights in my dark existence and I had to keep you. But then...then you came and the angelic creature that you are, you dared to kiss Erik and wake him from his madness. I know you did it to save your boy, but still, it was the happiest moment in my life." Erik turned on his heel as he spoke and stared at her, his hand reached out but stopped short and fell to his side.

She couldn't stop herself from following his jerking movements with a growing sense of dizziness. She dropped her gaze and focused on a splinter of wood to center herself. "Everything-everything happened so fast," she murmured. It seemed like everything was spinning around her and her heart was racing. She felt suddenly too warm and feared she wouldn't be able to hold herself up.

She drifted away from him and back to the chair, falling into the torn cushions throwing off the coat and shawl. He stood still, watching her with his constant golden gaze. "I never have much of a choice it seems." She leaned her head back into the cushions and covered her forehead with her hand, enjoying the coolness that radiated from her fingers. "No, I never tried to make a choice."

She pictured her current life, full of social gatherings and constrained comfort. And she imagined the care and love of Raoul, a happy family, a quiet life away from the world she had grown up in. Once she was married she would be expected to give up her friends from the opera, the people who had become her family, to befriend the women of polite society who already thought less of her. She would only be allowed to sing at the occasional social gathering as well, her future mother-in-law already making it clear that she would not accept the "crowing of some opera diva" echoing through the house. She would be comfortable and cared for and... so very alone, surrounded by people who would likely never accept her and certainly could never understand her.

She could always stay here though, curl up and go to sleep. She liked the idea of sleeping. Something nagged at the back of her mind that she couldn't stay. But why not? She considered a life under the opera, full of music and darkness. It would be lonely too but she would have Erik and maybe she would be allowed to come and go as she pleased and keep her friends. She could sing as she liked and hear the violin and she wouldn't be the outcast in polite society. She chuckled then. No, instead she would just be the outcast of all society. Wasn't that why she went with Raoul, though? Agreeing to be locked in a gilded cage that let in the light rather to avoid being locked away in a real one underground? Or would they have left Paris and all the rumors behind so she could start fresh?

She suddenly sat up and found Erik looking at her with intent from across the room. "If I had stayed, what would you have done with me?"

He flinched and looked away from her. "I wouldn't have done anything _to_ you." He hissed the words but she could hear the hurt creeping into his voice. "All I desired was your presence, and even then only for as long as you could suffer to abide me each day. I was content to teach you to sing and be in your presence and love you from afar. I would have asked nothing of you but your company. I would not have even touched you!" He clenched his fists and looked back at her. "Why? Were you imagining that I would have forced myself upon you? I hope my answer laid your nightmares to rest, Christine."

It took her a moment to realize that her question had sounded like an accusation. "That's not what I meant. I was-I was just curious."

"You saw the consequences of your curiosity last time."

"But everything's different now. I want to understand what my other choice would have been like."

He snorted. "Is the life of a future Vicomtesse not to your liking? Or do you just want to revel in how lucky you were to escape the claws of a monster."

"It's lonely and constraining and quiet."

He walked past her away from her and grabbed the bottle that held the remains of the brandy they had been drinking and finished it. "You know nothing of loneliness or silence."

Erik stiffened as he felt arms wrap around him. Christine clung to him, her arms easily circling his waist. He wrapped his fingers around her wrists and gently pulled to get her to let go but instead her hold on him tightened.

"There's no music," she mumbled into his back. She had felt such a wave of anguish wash over her and sought out the the simple physical comfort. "My life now is nothing like I imagined it would be. I feel like I'm giving up everything. I've been given the opportunity to live the life that most girls dream of but I don't want it. I care for Raoul but it's not enough! I miss having music in my life! I feel like I'm drowning without it. I feel like I'm lost without-."

He pulled out of her embrace and backed away until he hit the wall, staring with terrified eyes. "Stop."

"What? What's wrong?" She swayed, his sudden retreat leaving her unsteady.

"Enough. You should go home. You need to go home."

"I-I don't understand." Christine could feel tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she watched him press against the wall like a cornered animal.

"I will not play this game again, Christine. Leave!"

She was shaking and silent tears started trailing down her cheeks. She had come to put her feeling for Erik to rest, confirm that he was gone and that she didn't have a choice. But he was here and she couldn't deny the pull she felt toward him that made everything else seem grey by comparison.

"Please, go." Erik's voice was broken and raspy and it sent a shiver up her spine.

"I-." She took a few steps forward and suddenly felt the ground slip from under her feet. She felt arms grab her and she was suddenly pulled against Erik's chest, could feel his heart hammering beneath her fingers as she steadied herself.

He cupped her face and angled her chin to meet her eyes."You are an angel Christine. Your compassion outshines even the greatness of your voice. You could never have stayed with me. If you had stayed here, you would have withered in the darkness. And that is why you need to go home."

"I-I can't. Not now."

She pressed her cheek into the palm of his hand, savoring the coolness of the contact. He leaned close to her, hesitantly. "If you don't leave now you may never." He ground out through gritted teeth as he suddenly pulled away.

Christine reached up and pressed her hand against his porcelain covered cheek, turning his head gently to face her. He kept his eyes on hers as she slipped her fingers under the mask, pulling it from his face before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek in an effort to reassure him.

Erik stood frozen, their eyes locking before he pulled her close and crashed his lips to hers. He pulled away from her lips and began trailing kisses down her throat and let out a gasp as she felt herself being lifted. He carried her to the bedroom and only pulled away once he placed her on the bed. His breathing ragged as he stared at her with his intense gaze. Christine sat up and watched as Erik took a step back then. His eyes rested on the mask she still had in her hand and a look of pain flashed across his face as he turned his head to the side, his hand reaching up to cover his features.

"I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't-" He took a step back. "You should get some rest." He turned, about to flee the room but the sound of porcelain hitting the floor made him stop.

"Don't go."


	2. Chapter 2

**I hope you enjoy! The previous chapter has substantially been edited so if anyone didn't read that first, I recommend you look it over for this to make sense. Any reviews are greatly appreciated!**

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Christine woke up and immediately twisted to the edge of the bed, retching onto the floor. Her head was pounding but the nausea abated as she settled back into the bed.

"N-no, stop."

She sat up in shock, her heart racing at the sudden soft whispers, her eyes scanning the room. It was too dark to be her usual room but a glow filtered in from the next room to make out the shape on the bed. She darted from under the covers and took several steps away. A shiver wracked her frame as her arms wrapped around herself as the room started spinning around her.

She felt a sudden twist in her gut and bolted to the bathroom, already aware of its location. She stayed in the bathroom until there was nothing left but the occasional dry heave. She collapsed to the cold floor with tears streaming down her face.

Christine wasn't sure how much time had passed when she finally pushed herself up from the floor. She splashed some water on her face to wipe away the tears and sickness. The cool liquid helped to soothe the pounding in her head but did little to shed light on the situation. She was still in Erik's home, standing bare in the bathroom. She couldn't recall much from the night beyond the drinking but her speculations sent her heart racing as she grasped the edge of the water basin.

She finally stepped out from the bathroom to find Erik blessedly still asleep. She found her clothing in a pile and dressing quickly before taking in the mess on the floor deciding to clean up to give her time to consider her next course of action.

She listened to Erik's continual whimpers as he slept as she mopped at the mess on the floor, each soft plea and whimper sending a pang of pity through her. Several times she considered rousing him from his nightmares, her fingers twitching with the urge to rub circles against his back and whisper soft comforts to soothe him. But even the few times the cries became too much and she stood up from cleaning and take the few steps around the bed to go to him, she would stop short of actually reaching out to him before scurrying back to her work. If he woke and saw her there she'd never be allowed to leave...or perhaps he would force her to go. She wasn't sure which was worse.

She was no closer to a decision when she finished and she found herself standing between the door and the bed watching Erik. He looked so small, with his head hidden under his arms and his legs tucked into his chest. She could faintly make out the crisscrossing of scars that she faintly remembered tracing her fingers over the night before as she had drifted into sleep.

Did she want to stay?

She closed her eyes. She couldn't. Raoul would come looking for her that day if he didn't find her at Madame Giry's and he would bring the force of the gendarmerie with him. He would be too nervous with the public announcement of their engagement just a day before to think anything short of wrongdoing and ransom. The opera house would be the first place they'd looked. The rumors of the opera ghost's possible survival would ignite and spread through the streets again making any escape near impossible. Erik would be caught and he would be hung, Raoul's name would be dragged through the mud again with another scandal attached to the woman he deigned to marry.

It didn't matter what she wanted.

"Please, no."

For a wild moment she thought he had woken up and was speaking to her, aware of her internal conflict but then he curled himself just a little more tightly in the bed and grew silent again. He looked like a child, hiding away from the world. Erik's voice sounded broken, scared and she shuddered at the thought of what demons were plaguing him in his sleep.

She could see the mask left on the floor beside him, briefly recalled removing it the night before. Her thoughts drifted, thinking back to _that night_ , still able to hear the shrieks and gasps coming from the audience from when she had stolen away his only defense and laid his face bare to the world. They would come looking if she stayed. He wouldn't be able to hide then.

She hesitated only a moment more before she turned and walked delicately around the wreckage in the main room that was still illuminated by a few candles, grabbing her coat and shawl on the way out.

The second Christine stepped into the tunnels she broke out into a run, dashing up the surface and into the blinding light of the sun. She stopped momentarily, staggering against the wall of the opera house as her eyes adjusted to the early morning light. She took a step forward before collapsing to her knees in the alleyway she had come through only hours earlier. Tears rushed down her pale cheeks as she let sobs wrack her body.

She wasn't sure how long she had stayed like that but she finally pushed herself up, drying her eyes with her shawl before wrapping it around herself to hide her face and walked out into the main street. It was still early morning and she was thankful for the lack of people on the streets as she made her way to Madame Giry's home.

She was a coward.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed! I am considering continuing this into a longer story when I have the time.


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